High School Musical
by Shellie Rae
Summary: Sam & Dean come across a school play based on the Carver Edlund books. Maybe they could learn a thing or two from watching it. This is my season 10 spec and I'm not even sorry.
1. Chapter 1

The Winchesters were back in high school. It had been a while since they'd worked a case involving students, but at least this time around didn't involve bright red shorts. They were in their FBI digs, and had already spoken to the principal. He had been extremely helpful, even offering to escort them right to the auditorium where the weird stuff had been happening.

Dean took him up on the offer, chatting him up as they walked, while Sam hung back to scope out the rest of the building. He hadn't gotten far when something caught his attention. On a bulletin board in the hallway, there was a boldly drawn pentagram on one of the flyers. He went to look closer, and his stomach dropped. He quickly scanned the rest of the flyer, feeling worse by the second. "This can't be happening," he said to himself, and could barely keep himself from running as he went to find his brother.

The principal had already introduced Dean to the drama advisor, a thin, forty-something woman with short blonde hair. She barely paused long enough to shake Dean's hand, as she was busy flitting around the auditorium, calling instructions to the students as they got ready for rehearsal. She waved her hand at a row of empty seats, addressing Dean. "Please, have a seat, I'll be with you as soon as we get started." He nodded, and made himself comfortable, leaning back and propping his feet up on the row in front of him.

His eyes skimmed across the various teens in the room. Some were painting backdrops, other were milling around the sound booth in the back. A few were dressed all in black and carried walkie talkies. Every one of them was wrapped up in their own tasks. Dean turned his attention back to the front of the room.

The stage was split down the middle by a large moveable wall. To the left of the wall was purposely darkened, but he could see bodies waiting in the shadows. On the other side, the scene was set up like a bedroom, and a girl sat on the edge of the bed. There was something familiar about her. She was reading over a script, and Dean could see her mouthing the words to herself. He frowned as he studied her. Her blonde hair was cut very short, and she wore a button-down flannel shirt and jeans.

"Alright my little thespians!" the teacher announced, and everyone hushed to listen. "We only have two weeks until showtime. Let's not get lazy now, we still need to fine-tune this. Tech booth, that means you; I want to see lights on cue tonight! Alright, let's pick up where we finished yesterday, act 2, scene 16. Places everyone!"

Dean glanced around, and noticed his brother at the side door. He raised an arm until Sam spotted him. The was a look of deep concern all over his face. Dean waited as Sam hurried over and shuffled down the row of seats. "Find anything?" Dean asked.

"Not about the case," Sam said, gazing around the auditorium in horror. "We should get out of here."

Just then the lights dimmed. Dean settled back into his seat. "Sure thing, let's just talk to the teacher first. She'll be over in a sec." The lights brightened over the right half of the stage. The young actress tucked her script under the bed and took a deep breath before she began reciting her lines.

"Cas, are you listening? You know I'm not one for praying, cause in my book it's just like begging. But this is important, it's about Sam. I know he's hurting, even though he covers it well. I don't ask you for much, but could you please... keep watch over my little brother?" The girl sighed, and looked out over the darkened room. "Where the heck are you, Cas?"

Sam risked a glance at his brother. A moment ago he had been worried for Dean's reaction, but now he had a dozen questions he was dying to ask. Dean didn't turn to look at him, but Sam could see his jaw clenching and his shoulders tensing up. Sam swallowed hard before he spoke. "I saw a flyer for the play, that's why I was coming to get you. It's based on Chuck's books."

Dean nodded. "Right, of course," he muttered. "That's perfect." He still hadn't turned away from the scene in front of them. The actress was taking notes on her script, while her teacher spoke animatedly with lots of arm-waving.

"When was that?" Sam finally asked, his voice gentle.

Finally Dean turned to look at him. "What?" Sam just raised his eyebrows and glanced at the stage. Dean sighed bitterly, and scooted down further in his seat. "After the first trial," he answered.

They were both silent for a long moment. "I didn't know," Sam said, so softly that Dean almost missed it.

Before Dean could answer, there was a commotion on the darkened half of the stage as the teacher was calling out more instructions. "Let's keep going! Tasha, do your last line again so tech can work on the cue."

The girl on stage nodded, and when everyone grew silent, she looked out over the room. "Where the heck are you, Cas?" she repeated. The stage went black.

Sam leaned over and whispered to Dean, "should we go?"

"What for?"

"Is there anything… I mean… what happened after that?"

Dean shot his brother a puzzled glance. "Nothing, man! Cas didn't answer."

They stared at each other blankly for a second, then Sam's jaw dropped. "Oh God. Why didn't he?"

Dean shrugged, not following Sam's train of thought. "Um… something to do with that Naomi chick, I guess." Then the pieces clicked together in his mind. "He didn't… I never… you don't think..?"

Now the lights brightened on the left side of the stage. The girl playing Dean now had fake blood smeared on her face and hands. "Don't do this," she begged, speaking to someone off-stage. She walked backward, a look of terror on her bloody face.

Another actress stepped onto the stage, dressed in a trench coat. In their seats, Sam and Dean both sat a little straighter. Both were actually nervous of where this was going. They were so focused, that when the drama instruction spoke right behind them, it startled them badly. "Good, isn't it?" she whispered. "We've got some very talented kids this year."

Sam nodded in agreement. "Very talented," he glanced back, forcing a smile. Dean didn't budge.

The fake Cas on stage had twisted the other girl's arm, forcing her to her knees. Her eyes looked cold and emotionless. With her free hand, she raised a weapon high above her head, ready to strike. Then her expression softened, and she glanced around, her eyes wide. "No, please! Let me go, Naomi."

A third actress joined them on stage, this one dressed in a classy business suit. She smiled at the other two. "I'll let you go... after you practice your lessons," she said sweetly.

Without lowering the homemade angel blade, the girl shook her head, swinging her dark hair. "I can't hurt him," she looked down at the bloody face of the other actress. "Please don't make me."

"You will do as I tell you." She practically shouted her next line. "Now finish this."

Trench coat girl swung her blade down in a pretty convincing-looking stab to the chest. After she lowered the body to the floor, she looked again, then gasped and fell to her knees. "Dean!" she sobbed.

Behind them, the other girl paced. "Better, but still too much hesitation." She smiled. "Let's try again, shall we?" She snapped her fingers, and the lights went out.

Sam realized he had been holding his breath, and let it out loudly. He rubbed a hand over his face. The whole thing felt surreal, but he believed that what they had just seen was the truth. "You okay man?" he asked his brother.

The lights turned back on over the entire room. Dean's seat was empty.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam forced a smile as he turned to face the drama instructor. "Sorry, my partner had to deal with another matter. I can see you're busy, so I won't take up too much of your time. What can you tell me about the incident?"

Her face became serious as she started in on the same exact story he'd already heard half a dozen times. His mind wandered, along with his gaze. His eyes stopped when he spotted two more students waiting just off stage. One was a short, dark-skinned girl, dressed in a loose purple shirt and tight black pants. Sam barely noticed, more concerned with her companion: another girl in a plaid flannel shirt, her blonde hair tied back at her neck. The two were chatting as they waited. Besides her outfit, something about her face seemed familiar. Sam swallowed hard and tried to pull his attention back. "I just hope it won't upset the students too badly," the teacher was rambling on.

"That will all be very helpful," he interrupted her. "Can I ask you something?" She raised her eyebrows, confused. "How did you come across this play?"

She smiled warmly, glad that the conversation was back in her arena. "It is very unique, right? We're the first school to put it on!" She leaned in, as if she were telling secrets. "The story is based on a somewhat-unknown series of books, but the script itself was arranged by one of my former students." Sam got a feeling of dread in his stomach as she turned and peered toward the stage. "That's her younger sister over there, she's playing one of our leads. Bethany!"

A few students turned their direction at their teacher's raised voice, but the girl in plaid raised her hand in a shy wave. "Of course," Sam rolled his eyes. The teacher turned back to face him and he squared his shoulders. "Her sister wouldn't be Becky Rosen, by any chance?"

The woman's eyes lit up. "How did you know?" she practically squealed.

"We've met," Sam said a little harshly, then got up and walked away.

* * *

><p>He found Dean pacing in the foyer just outside the auditorium. "I don't like this," Dean snapped, before Sam could even open his mouth. "The books were bad enough, but now these kids… they're acting out our lives, man! It's just sick!"<p>

Sam took a slow breath, bracing himself. "There's more," he said after a moment.

Dean stopped pacing and turned to face him. His mouth twisted into a pained grimace. "Do not tell me it can get any worse than that," he pointed toward the double doors.

"Guess who is playing me," he began. "Bethany Rosen. Here's a hint, her sister wrote the play."

"Rosen?" Dean frowned for a second, then his eyes grew wide. "Nooo," he groaned. His eyes squeezed shut and he took a few deep breaths. After a moment he looked up with a pleading expression. "We gotta get out of here, Sam. This is bad."

"What about the haunting?" Sam reminded him half-heartedly.

Dean threw his arms out. "Let's call Garth, get somebody else on it."

Sam considered it for a moment. Then he looked queasy. "Dean… uh, do you really want some other hunters here? With this play going on?" As that thought sank in, Dean looked more and more upset. Sam ran his hand through his hair. "Listen, I don't like this any more than you do, but unless we want this getting out..."

"We're stuck here," Dean finished. They gazed at each other in resignation.

Sam shrugged. "Why don't you check the building for EMF, I'll keep an eye on…" he motioned at the door, his words trailing off.

Dean was obviously relieved at the offer. He stood up a little straighter. "Good idea, man." He glanced around. "If I find anything, I'll come get you." He gave his brother a hearty slap on the arm.

Sam turned, squared his shoulders, and bravely entered the auditorium. The heavy door clicked shut firmly behind him.

"Good luck, little brother," Dean said to the door.

* * *

><p>The EMF detector was giving him nothing. He was halfway down the third identical corridor and hadn't found a single clue to the strange occurrences at this school. His thoughts began to drift.<p>

He told himself that Becky had made up the scene about Cas and Naomi, but he wasn't convinced. It fit too well with what he already knew. He pictured that teenage girl in the trench coat, sobbing over the body of the other girl. It made his stomach twist up to think about Cas, his Cas - the real Cas - he corrected himself, going through something like that.

A slight noise pulled him back to reality. He concentrated, listening hard for the source of it. He deftly slid the EMF detector into his pocket, then rested his fingers on the handle of the knife hidden in his belt. He took a few silent steps forward.

From around the corner, a teenage girl appeared, stopping short when she saw him. Dean dropped his hand from the knife and let out a frustrated sigh. "Get out of here," he waved her on.

She didn't budge. Dean noticed she was dressed similarly to the young actress who was playing himself. He frowned as her hands went to her hips in defiance. "You're not a teacher," she accused, her chin held high. "Why should I?"

He whipped out his FBI badge and held it up to her without a word. It did not get the reaction he expected.

"No way," she said, her voice almost a whisper. She took the badge and peered closer at it. "Agent David Ragsdale? That's so cute." Her eyes were sparkling with excitement. "I cannot believe this!"

"Excuse me?" Dean frowned at her, confused.

She was practically bouncing with excitement. "You're him! You're you! Omigod." The girl stepped closer, lowering her voice. "You're Dean. I mean, the real one. You're even more gorgeous than I imagined!"

He just stared at her blankly, his mouth slightly open.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Not that they'd believe me anyway!" She laughed nervously, fiddling with her ponytail. "It's just… I'm so honored to meet you. I mean, you saved the world and you're such a sweetheart and I just want to wrap you up in a blanket and give you some pie. But don't worry, you're still totally badass too."

"Alright," he finally interrupted as she stopped to take a breath. "Enough, seriously."

She held up the badge. "Can I keep this?"

"What? No!" He snatched it back from her, tucking it away securely. "Now who the hell are you?"

She wiggled her shoulders and tugged at the hem of her shirt. "I'm Sam," she teased. Then she bit her lip and gave him a playful slap on the arm. "I'm just kidding, silly. My name's Bethany."

Dean scowled as the pieces fell together. "Becky's sister," he clarified.

Her whole face lit up. "Awwww! You remembered! She'll be so touched." Bethany placed her hand over her chest.

"No, she…" Dean shook his head. He closed the space between them. "Do not tell anyone we're here," he threatened. "Especially your sister."

"We? Do you mean Sam is here too?" Her eyes grew even wider. Dean turned away in frustration, eyes toward the ceiling as if looking for a sign from the heavens. Bethany pouted her lips. "Sorry. I won't tell a soul that you're here. Cross my heart."

"Thanks," he said sarcastically, but he relaxed just a fraction.

"I can help you," she spoke suddenly, as if the words slipped out accidentally. "You're here about the weird stuff, right? Well, I know some things." She shrugged modestly. "I mean, I have read all your books. I could totally help!"

"What can you tell me?" Dean prompted.

Just then a nearby door swung open and the instructor leaned out. She spotted them. "Bethany, there you are. We're ready for your scene, dear. Hurry!" Bethany scurried past her and disappeared. The woman turned back to Dean. "I hope she wasn't pestering you."

"It's fine," Dean tried to look polite, but his smile felt stiff. "Not finding much anyway."

* * *

><p>Author's Note: I'm desperately trying to finish this before the musical episode actually airs, but it's taken on a life of it's own. I don't know where Bethany came from but I sort of love her. Thanks for reading so far!<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

While Dean was talking with the younger Rosen sister, Sam was witnessing another startling revelation. After interviewing a few of the students, the teacher had called everyone back to their places before the lights dimmed again. Sam fumbled into an empty seat to wait. The girl in purple was playing Meg, and he watched in awe as she and the trenchcoat girl made sexual innuendoes about pizza. He vaguely remembered walking in on some strange tension that day, but he and Dean had been completely focused on finding the angel tablet.

He saw the two flannel clad girls enter from stage right just as Dean sat down next to him. "Well?" Sam asked.

"EMF picked up a big fat nothing," he said quietly. "I say we roll on out of here."

The female Dean on stage clapped her hands together, grabbing the boys' attention. "Alright campers, let's roll," she announced. Sam gave his brother a smirk.

Dean made a disgusted face. "Did I miss anything important?"

A range of emotions crossed Sam's face as he considered how to answer. "Not really," he finally said. "A few of the kids heard things, but nothing first-hand. The house lights came up and they both glanced around. "How about I take a look around? You can stay here and interview some more students."

Dean nodded as his brother got up to leave; then he remembered something important. "Oh hey, Sam? The girl you is on to us."

"The girl me?" Sam had to ponder that for a moment. "You mean Bethany? That's just great." He sighed, and turned to leave the auditorium.

Dean peered around at the students rushing about. Most of them barely gave him a glance, but one girl turned quickly away when he looked her direction. She wore a dark red tuxedo and black high heels. The girl's hair was styled in smooth ringlets, and she stood a little taller than her peers. Dean wondered if they'd had the tuxedo custom made, it was so perfectly fitted on her body. He pushed up out of his chair and started in her direction.

She fidgeted nervously as he approached, so he gave a warm smile. "Crowley, I presume."

The girl tried to smile back, but she could barely meet his eyes. "Yeah ...um, in the play, I mean." She shrugged awkwardly and shifted her feet.

Dean gazed at her steadily. "You nervous?"

She looked up, locking eyes with him. "No! Why would I be nervous?"

He chuckled softly. "I don't know, stage fright maybe?"

"Well yeah," she giggled. "I thought you meant… I'm fine!"

Dean just watched her, a calm smile on his face. "Yeah, you seem very relaxed. Nothing to hide, right?" Her smile froze halfway. Just then the overhead lights flashed, and the teacher called everyone to their places. Dean caught the girl's eye again. "We'll talk later."

* * *

><p>Outside the auditorium, Sam was making a phone call. It rang three times.<p>

"Hello Sam," Castiel answered. "Is everything okay?"

"Hi Cas. Yes, everything is fine. Listen, I have kind of a strange question for you."

"Strange is pretty much the usual for you, Sam. What is it?"

Sam hesitated. "We're on a case, and this school is putting on a play based on the Carver Edlund books." He heard Castiel sigh. "There's some stuff in there…"

"Sam?" Cas prompted after a brief silence. "What sort of 'stuff' is it?"

"Is there any possibility that Chuck is still out there? Maybe hiding, but still writing?" Now Cas was silent. "Uh, you still there?"

"It's not possible. He... " Cas shifted the phone around, and feedback squeaked in Sam's ear. "That's not possible. Why do you ask?"

"When Naomi was brainwashing you, did she… Cas, did you have to practice killing my brother?" The phone was quiet for a long moment, but Sam waited.

Finally came a subdued "yes."

"Did you tell anybody about that? No one ever found his body, right? How would anyone else know about these things? Because I can't think of any other explanation!"

Another long silence. "I will be in touch," Cas said, his voice steady.

"Wait, Cas, is there anything I should…" Sam heard the call disconnect and glared at his phone. "Damn it."

* * *

><p>On stage, Sam and Meg were discussing unicorns. Dean watched with a disbelieving scowl. When the lights went up again, he rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. He glanced around for Little Miss Crowley, but she was nowhere to be seen. Before he could start the search, he noticed Bethany practically leap off the stage and run toward him.<p>

"Dean," she began excitedly, then slapped a hand over her mouth. "I mean agent," she looked around conspiratorially.

"How subtle of you."

She ignored his sarcasm. " I have some news. We can't talk here; you and Sam meet me in the science lab in ten."

Dean stared a little harder at her. "Are you serious? You have something already?"

Bethany nodded. "It's good, too," she told him happily. Then she hurried away. Dean went the other direction, leaving the auditorium as the students readied themselves to rehearse that scene again. He nearly bumped into Sam just outside the door.

"Find anything?" Dean asked his brother.

"Nothing," Sam replied, leaving out the fact that he hadn't actually done any looking. "You?"

"Well, girl Crowley was acting shifty, I think she's hiding something. Oh, and girl you thinks she's got some info for us."

"Stop calling her… she's not…" Sam tilted his head, confused. "Wait, I didn't know she was helping."

"Nobody asked her to," Dean said, annoyed. "Come on." He started off down the corridor that would take them to the lab.

* * *

><p>"It's been fifteen minutes," Sam checked his watch yet again. "Should we be worried?"<p>

"What, about Bethany?" Dean shook his head thoughtfully as he fiddled with an empty beaker at one of the lab stations. "I don't know, so far the victims have all been…"

"Adult men," Sam finished. He looked at his brother. "You okay?"

Dean opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. He turned to Sam and pointed at himself.

Sam stepped closer, his forehead creasing up with worry. "Dean! Just stay calm, alright? Okay, so your voice is gone?" Dean nodded frantically. "Are you in pain?" Dean stared at him, wide-eyed, then shook his head slowly. "That's good, I guess. We'll figure this out. Um… did someone slip a hex bag on you?" Dean patted himself down, but found nothing. Sam started to pace the room. "Let's think. A curse, maybe? Assuming it's related to this case, who here would want to hurt you?" They both stared at each other, thinking hard.

They both turned to look when the classroom door swung open. Dean patted his throat, and pointed frantically. Tuxedo girl stood the doorway. Sam stood up straighter, ready to fight. She stepped into the room. Dean's eyes widened as he saw Bethany step up behind her.

"You okay, Dean?" Bethany asked. He pulled his gun, pointing it at the other girl. "Wait, no!" Bethany stepped between the girl and Dean. "She's not doing this stuff on purpose. We need your help." Dean lowered his gun, but didn't holster it. "I brought her here so we can fix everything."

"Then you'd better start explaining," Sam demanded.

Bethany took a deep breath, glancing at Dean. Then she turned to the other girl and took her by the hand. "It's okay Maeva, just tell them exactly how you told me. They can help."

The girl took a deep breath, then began to speak. "Je ne voulais pas de mal à personne! Je voulais juste l'enseignant d'arrêter de me harceler."

Bethany smiled at her. "Sweetie, in English, remember?"

Maeva giggled nervously. "Oh, sorry. When I get upset I speak my first language." She squeezed Bethany's hand. "I just wanted him to leave me alone, that's all. He kept making comments to me and I was feeling so uncomfortable. After that I didn't know how to stop it." She looked down at the floor.

"You mean the teacher who was hospitalized?" Sam spoke gently. "He won't bother you again." Maeva raised her head, looking relieved. Sam smiled at her.

They both jumped when Dean smacked his fist on the countertop, glaring at Bethany.

Sam eyeballed him for a second, then understood. He turned to Bethany. "You knew about this. Why didn't you just tell us right away?"

Her eyes grew wide. "No, I didn't know!" She glanced toward Maeva. "I mean, I didn't know it was her, I just knew it was your kind of thing." Dean and Sam were both scowling at her. "Listen, I brought one of my sister's creepy books to rehearsal. I figured we could get some ideas for the symbols and designs to use in the sets. Then I sort of lost track of it." The boys were really glaring now. "After I told Dean I could help, I just had to ask around and figure out who had it last." She cast a sad look at the other girl. "When I asked Maeva about the book, she told me everything. So… can you help?"

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Guys, this story is kind of freaking me out. It's not going the way I intended. First Bethany, now Maeva? Seriously, what the hell! This was supposed to be a stupid crack fic. Next chapter might not be the end.<p> 


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